


Follow Me

by SymbioticAntithesis



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Music, lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:32:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymbioticAntithesis/pseuds/SymbioticAntithesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't play for the fame, or the money; he plays to find his childhood friend, a friend whose name he can't remember but he does remember those eyes and that voice . . . and he knows that when he sees him, everything will fall into place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow Me

When he was a little boy, Zexion remembered that he used to play with a young blond who lived down the street. They would muddle in the dirt, chase butterflies, race down alleyways, catch fireflies, and anything else that would strike their fancy. Zexion remembered that the boys' eyes were a strange blue-ish green and he remembered that the boy would often break into song--and Gods, his voice was beautiful, even if he was only five years old--and Zexion would attempt to sing along, only to be embarrassed afterword despite his friend's assurance that he sang well. He also remembered that, despite their age, they promised to be each others' best friends for the rest of their lives.

Not long after that, however, Zexion's father passed away. His mother, consumed in grief, could no longer care for him and he was sent away to live with a distant relative.

He never got to say goodbye to the boy who lived down the street.

Zexion cried and moped for nearly a week. Then one day he heard lilting music coming from the living room of his new home. He went to investigate and saw his caretaker, Zack Fair, playing a hauntingly beautiful piece at the baby grand piano he hadn't even noticed when he first arrived.

When Zack became aware of him lingering in the doorway, he gave Zexion a brilliant smile and beckoned him over. Zexion complied and sat with his caretaker on the bench.

Then Zack started to play and Zexion was in awe.

At that moment, he had decided: he would find his friend again and he would do so by playing music. He had always loved music.

Now two decades later, a twenty-six year old Zexion was rising in fame in Radiant Garden and he was that much closer to finding the blond boy he used to play with as a child. He no longer remembered his name, but he did remember those mesmerizing eyes and that enchanting smile and above all, his melodious voice.

He knew he'd find him someday. And he was sure he'd know it was him when they met.

He just needed the right melody.

~*+=

"Zexion, you have a letter."

The slate-haired man raised a delicate eyebrow. "Personally addressed?"

Namine nodded and handed him an envelope. "It has already been checked."

He took the parcel and the petite blonde took her leave. Zexion stared at the envelope for a moment, wondering who on earth it could be from. There was no return address, just his name and the recording company's location rather messily scrawled across the paper.

Frowning, but deciding that it could pose no threat if security had already checked it, he slit open the envelope and withdrew the paper. As he perused the letter, his eyes widened in shock. They were lyrics. And the words rang familiar.

There could be no other person but _him_. It had to be. But then why does he not show himself? Why send him lyrics to an unfinished song? Zexion didn't understand, but at the same time his heart lifted: he found him. But now he had to wait for the other to reveal himself.

Zexion let a soft smile grace his lips. So this was to be a game, was it? He remembered he liked to play games; Zexion would always follow him around, in spite of the prospective danger they might land themselves in. But it was all for the adventure and he always loved thrill of it. Zexion just went along for the ride.

His amusement slowly faded when he realized that he wouldn't know how his friend would look like after twenty years. All he had to go on was the dirty blond hair and the blue-green eyes. How was he like now, he wondered. Zexion, suddenly feeling like a child again, started to imagine what he would look like after nearly two decades apart. Slender fingers, he was sure, probably with callouses from playing random musical instruments too much and too often. Would he lithe and thin? Tall? Handsome? How would his hair be like? He remembered that it was always a mess compared to his immaculate grooming but he had loved running his fingers in it when they lay together on the hilltop watching the clouds go by.

Zexion sighed, opening his eyes--when had he closed them?--and looked down at the letter again. All he really knew was that his friend was calling the shots: Zexion had no idea where the other one was but apparently, _he_ did. And it didn't seem like he was going to reveal himself anytime soon. Well, Zexion supposed he could handle that. As long as he knew that he _would_ meet him, one way or another.

So he let himself relax back into his chair, turning his thoughts to the upcoming concert that he was to play in the following week.

~*+=

The night after his concert, Zack and his wife Aerith took him out for dinner. In a passing conversation, Zack mentioned how Zexion had wanted to learn the piano in the first place and he had to battle down a blush of embarrassment. Aerith, having never heard this particular story before, was intrigued. After all, Zack and Aerith had met five years after Zack had taken over custody of him. Zexion liked the brunette; it was a pity she was unable to bear children due to a miscarriage fifteen years prior, as she would have made a wonderful mother.

"So what _really_ made you decide to study music, besides my husband's wonderful playing?" she asked jokingly, and Zack gave an indignant cry.  
Zexion smiled at the banter. "Honestly, music reminds me of a friend I once had."

"Had?"

"Yes." Zexion hesitated and he chanced a glance at Zack who knew of the friend he had unexpectedly left behind after his father's death and his mother's depression. The older male shrugged and quirked his lips in a 'it's your decision' kind of way and Zexion rolled his eyes internally.

"I had a friend when I was younger, before I started to live with Zack. We used to do everything together. When my father died and my mother could no longer care for me, I was suddenly sent to live here in Radiant Garden. I never got to say goodbye to him and I learned a few days later that his family moved to Twilight Town.

"He . . . would burst into song randomly and would even sing to me when I was frightened or upset and he had the most wonderful voice," he blushed but Aerith simply smiled and nodded for him to continue. "I would try to do the same for him but I was never quite as good as he was.

"When I came here and heard Zack play, I decided that I would learn music, too, if only to be a little closer to him. I also wanted to find him again, even if it was a miniscule chance, and tell him I as sorry for leaving so abruptly. But . . ." he trailed off, frowning at the mug in front of him. The silence stretched on for awhile and nobody spoke.

"I don't even remember his name," Zexion finally admitted.

Aerith's emerald green eyes shone with sympathy. "All this time, and I never knew any of this."

Zexion shook his head, "it's all right."

And all three of them knew the deeper meaning to those words.

~*+=

A fortnight had passed since Zexion received the first letter and nothing had happened. Slightly peeved, he took out the sheet of paper again and rescanned it checking to see if he had missed something. Inanely, he flipped the paper over and froze: there in tiny script at the bottom right hand corner were words. Zexion squinted, holding the sheet up to his face.

' _Come find me._ '

He gasped: They were clues! The lyrics were clues! A hide-and-seek of the unknown, a test to see if Zexion remembered . . . And that made Zexion worry. He didn't remember his friend's name, surely that wouldn't hinder him in his search? He nibbled at the bottom of his lip. Did these clues also mean that he had to go back to Hollow Bastion?

Flipping the paper back over, he carefully reread the printed lyrics. Then he saw it, the one line that jumped out to him and told him where to go:

_Why are you always smiling with such a sad face?_ (1)

That had to be referring to the time they had first met at the Falls. He had been crying in one of the many crevices because . . . because . . . because what? He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to remember.

~*+=

_Wedged into a narrow crevice and curled up into himself, a young boy with nearly white colored hair cried into his knees. Some of the older children had been teasing him because he was 'different', because he hair was the strangest color out of all the children in their city, because he was small and scrawny._

_He couldn't_ _ help _ _it if his hair was pale! He really couldn't! His mother had told him that it would darken out, just like hers did when she was younger, but a part of him didn't believe it._

_There was a sudden clatter behind him and Zexion couldn't help but flinch. He turned around and saw, not the bullies, but a young blond boy perhaps a year younger than him who had placed all his random toys on the floor of the cave. His head was tilted to the side, his eyes wide in curiosity. Zexion curled himself up tighter, defensive, not ready to trust_ _ anyone _ _._

_The boy started forward and was standing in front of him before Zexion realized what had happened. He plopped down in front of him, his wide innocent eyes staring up at Zexion's tear-stained face._

_"I like yo' hay-er."_

_Zexion blinked, not quite knowing what the boy had said._

_"Ca' I towch?" He lifted a hand and his chubby fingers extended for Zexion's hair. Only then did he understand what the boy had said: he_ _ liked _ _his hair. But why?_

_The boy's fingers gripped lightly at his long bangs and tugged gently. He giggled, "ish soft!" And he started to stroke Zexion's hair._

_And Zexion, too surprised to do anything else, smiled through his tears._

_~*+=_

He opened his eyes again. That's right, those awful kids had teased him about his scrawniness and the paleness of his hair. It was quite silly now that he thought about it, but he was a child; any harsh word towards him hurt him deeply.

After that encounter, he and the boy had met everyday after that. He taught the boy articulation and he taught Zexion how to have fun. The year that followed was wonderful, free of bullies and full of the boy's company.

. . . He wanted that carefree feeling again.

He suddenly pushed his chair back, standing up. He was going back to Hollow Bastion and maybe, maybe he'd find his friend again. Zexion was sure that that was what he was supposed to do, what the other was _telling_ him to do.

So he started to pack hastily and wrote a note to Aerith and Zack before he bolted out the door with no real plan in mind.

He just needed a ticket to Hollow Bastion and he was sure everything else would fall into place.

~*+=

Zexion stood by the many crevices at the Falls at a bit of a loss at what to do. Was he supposed to find the _exact_ crevice where he had hid in all those years ago? How the hell was he supposed to do that? But with no other lead, he started to search each and every fracture, feeling a bit ridiculous as he did so. After about fifteen minutes of searching, he finally found what he was looking for. Another piece of paper was wedged into a small crack of the wall and Zexion pried it loose. He opened it and found another set of lyrics:  


_You are not alone  
_ _You are never alone_ _  
Because you are indispensable to me  
You are the most beautiful when you smile _(2)

Zexion blushed. This was like . . . a love song. What the hell was that guy thinking? He shook his head of the thought and instead started to scrutinize the printed lines on the paper. Frowning, he reread the last line: You are the most beautiful when you smile. All of these clues dealt with something important that had happened between them. This one in particular . . . dealt with the time Zexion had first comforted a frightened blond boy. There had been a thunderstorm and the then three-year old had run to his house in the middle of the night and had cuddled with Zexion throughout the night and Zexion had hummed him lullabies while stroking his hair and holding him close. He had never asked why the blond didn't go to his parents for comfort, he simply accepted him into his arms.

He smiled, remembering that he had told the boy that he preferred him grinning rather than crying, hence the meaning of the lyrics.

His smile faded when he realized the location the next batch of lyrics ought to be: his old house. Was it even still there? Well, he'd have to check anyway; he had no other lead otherwise. He pocketed the slip of paper and gathered his things before heading out of the Falls.

As he walked down the once familiar streets, he pondered more about the situation he was in. His plan of reaching out through music had worked but _why_ he was led on this scavenger hunt was a complete mystery. Granted, he _had_ forgotten much over the past twenty years, but how could a boy a year younger than him remember so much more? He wasn't a forgetful person, on the contrary he had an excellent memory. But for some reason, anything before his moving to Radiant Garden was a bit fuzzy. The only thing he was absolutely sure about . . . were those eyes, that smile, and that voice. He hated himself for not being able to remember; it made it seem like the blond boy wasn't important enough to him to remember. But that wasn't true in the least. After the first night he heard Zack play, he had firmly decided what he wanted to do to get his friend back; that was all his then childish mind could think of.

He didn't exactly have a passion for music, not like his friend had which he was sure probably grew into practically an obsession given the evidence of self-written lyrics, but he didn't hate it, either. He liked it enough but he soon realized that if he were to achieve his goal, he had to put all of himself into the endeavor. So he had practiced hard, learned everything his teachers had to offer and his hard work had come to fruition. He was now one of the youngest professional piano players in Radiant Garden and one of the most sought after. All for the sake of finding a friend he could no longer remember the name of.

Looking up, he was somewhat startled to find that he had already arrived at his old house. There were children playing in the yard. A young couple stood on the porch watching them with a smile on their faces.

Well, he was obviously not going to be able to search the house, if the clue was indeed inside the house. It seemed quite ridiculous, though; if it were, how the hell did the blond manage to sneak in and hide it in there? Then something sparked his memory: The tree in the back yard.

Swiftly pivoting on his heel and turning around, he headed towards the rear of the house. He remembered that the boy had used the tree to sneak into his room. Would it still be there? Would it be considered trespassing if he just searched around the tree? There was really only one way to find out so he quickened his pace and rounded the corner.

Once he reached the other side, he breathed a sigh of relief; the tree was still there, in all its glory, and there, wedged in between the trunk and a loose piece of bark was a slip of paper. He jumped the fence and trotted over and carefully eased the paper from its confines. Before he opened it, he removed himself from private property and set his feet back on the pedestrian sidewalk. He glanced around him, a bit paranoid that someone might have seen him, but there was no one in the vicinity.

With slightly eager hands, he unfolded the third piece of paper and read its contents. His insides froze when he read the last line:

_Goodbye comes like a squall_ (3)

A squall . . . A storm, something sudden. It was undeniable what this was referring to. But where was he supposed to go?

He glared morosely at his feet. Maybe . . . the last time he saw him? But where was that? He frowned, thinking hard.

It was . . . at the libraries. When they had been talking about adventure. He dredged up the memory of the specific section they had loitered and without a second thought, he tore off towards the Hollow Bastion library. This trail he was following was getting more and more depressing and Zexion desperately wanted to put an end to it. He wanted to see him again, wanted to apologize, wanted to tell him . . . what? That he had missed him, of course; practically his whole life had revolved around that boy. But that was all he was, right? A friend that he had lost? Besides, there was no way in hell that a child of five or six could have possibly been in 'love'.

He shook the thought aside upon reaching the doors of the great librar. Zexion strode in with less urgency and more professionalism. He quickly made his way to the science-fiction section and immediately started to scan the racks. He remembered that he and the boy had once had a heated argument about Star Wars and Star Trek and had thus been thrown out of the library for being too noisy. His lip quirked slightly at the memory. Then he found the book he was looking for and extracted it from the shelf. He leafed through the pages before a slip of paper fell out. Snatching it off the floor, he greedily read the words on the page:  


_On the spring days that you were with me,_ _  
Even now, it's shining within my heart  
That is the proof that we were once together _(4)

Spring. That was his clue. Spring was the time when they would lie on the grass and watch the clouds pass by, a memory he had never forgotten.

Closing the tome and placing it back into its proper slot, he pocketed the fourth slip of paper and headed for the hilltop where they would always used to chase the butterflies and play tag. Where would the next slip be hiding, though? Would he have to dig for it? Or would it simply be lying there? He remembered that when they were little, the hilltop was a secluded place, so much so that it almost seemed as if only he and the blond knew of its existence. That's why they loved it so much.

And those lyrics . . . Gods, those lyrics were so haunting, so much like a song written for a lover. But it couldn't be possible. Zexion reasoned that at the age of six, he had no idea what the concept of what 'love' was. He knew what family love was, of course, and companionship, but most definitely not romantic love. Why were his friend's words affecting him so? How could it be possible that _he_ could write about love when Zexion had no freaking idea on what the hell it was?

Throughout his twenty years in Hollow Bastion, he had felt a spark of 'like' with one other person, but the relationship never worked out. They mutually decided to remain friends. Now she was his secretary. Namine was a sweet girl but being with her just didn't feel right. He didn't know what 'love' was; he knew the concept of it. He saw it every day between Zack and Aerith, but he had never personally experienced such a thing.

How could a boy a year younger than him realized it even then? And so much sooner than him? It didn't make any sense.

By the time he reached the hilltop, he was out of breath and sweating profusely. Damn that boy for making him run around this city.

He gave a furtive glance around the area and almost immediately found what he was looking for. There was a log not far from where he was standing and wedged in between the bark was the unmistakable whiteness of paper. He tugged it out in his haste, almost tearing the paper in half. Zexion smoothed the page out and read:  


_Since that day, I lost one wing from my back_ _  
My memories from the stars when the night dawned  
Is waning_ (5)

So he had missed him, too. That much was certain. He felt a bit of relief flood through him; after all, he hadn't ruled out the idea that this was some sort of punishment for suddenly disappearing. As he walked down the hill, he nitpicked away at the lyrics before finally knowing where he had to go next: The Observatory. He and the boy had spent one night watching the stars appear in the sky and as luck would have it, there had also been a meteor shower. They had stayed at the Observatory the whole evening, eventually falling asleep curled together. Ansem the Wise had found them the next morning and brought them into his laboratory before informing their hysterical mothers.

Zexion chuckled at the memory. Their mothers had been furious but relieved that they were both okay. He could only imagine the fright they had caused them.

When he walking through the city streets again, he noticed that the sun was already low in the horizon. Had the whole day really passed that quickly? He had spent the entire day running around the city trying to decipher vague lyrics from a friend he hadn't seen for nearly twenty years.  If that wasn't completely insane, he didn't know what was.

He drew in a breath and started to run. For some reason, he felt the need to be at the Observatory before sundown. He had a feeling that everything would fall into place.

Racing up the stairs, his breaths coming in short pants, he reached his destination just was the sun started to sink into the horizon. He guessed he would have about fifteen minutes before the light was completely gone. Now all he had to do was find the last clue; he was sure this one was the final piece.

He didn't have to search for long. On the one lone telescope, a slip of paper was sticking out where the eye piece should have been and Zexion, almost nervous, took the page and slowly unfolded it. There was only one line on it:

_Can you see our promised place?_ (6)

Zexion's heart froze for a split second before it started to race again. He stared half frightened at the telescope, as if it were going to suddenly come alive and attack him, but of course it would do no such thing. Zexion swallowed and stepped forward, pressing his eyes close to the end of the telescope.

What he saw wasn't the stars, nor the moon, not even the rapidly disappearing sun. It was the street they had lived on all those years ago and strung across the trees--surely that was illegal?--were lights.

' _Turn around._ '

Zexion jerked his head away from the telescope and he clenched his fists. He was here. Right behind him. He could feel his presence. A part of him was terrified to turn around but another just wanted to curse the blond for leading him on, for making him question his feelings, his _sexuality_ and how much he _hated_ being manipulated. And the last part of him, the most rational part of him, told him to just face him and take it as it came.

So that was what he did.

He turned around and there, standing not six feet in front of him, was a tall blond male with blue-ish green eyes, a brilliant smile on his face. And Zexion thought for sure that he had stopped breathing.

"Hey Zexy."

And everthing seemed to collapse around him; nothing else seemed to matter but that fact that it was _him_. He had found him. There, standing before him, with the same open smile.

" _Demyx_ ," the name escaped his mouth before he could stop it. He remembered, Gods, he _remembered_.

And the blond's smile widened when he heard his name.

Zexion took a step forward, struggling to keep himself in control. _He's here. He's actually here._

"Demyx," he managed to breathe again, letting the name roll off his tongue lovingly, a name he had forgotten for much too long. Then, without inhibition, he rushed forward and embraced the blond tightly. The other returned it just as fervently.

Too much had happened to him that day: His friend had found him, led him on a wild scavenger hunt, forced up long forgotten memories, threw his emotions out of whack, and now he was _here_ in his arms-- _real_. This was real, and he never wanted to let go of this feeling of completion. Because he . . .

"I love you, Zexy."

Zexion clung tighter, finally understanding his own turbulent emotions. Demyx, the boy who had found him crying in the crevice of the Falls, who he had last seen as a child of four . . . had made Zexion fall in love with him in a single day.

Or perhaps he had always loved Demyx; he just hadn't realized it yet. But nevertheless, Zexion loved him. He loved him.

So Zexion managed to nod into his (taller--he was taller than him now!) friend's shoulder and said, "I know. I love you, too."

And though he couldn't see it, he knew Demyx was smiling.

He withdrew slightly from the embrace and tiptoed so he could whisper into the blond's ear:

" _I knew I'd find you._ "

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on September 09, 2009
> 
> (1) Nightmare - Ruru~Lulu  
> (2) SID - Eru  
> (3) alice nine. - Ruri no Ame  
> (4) alice nine. - JEWELS  
> (5) alice nine. - FANTASY  
> (6) SID - Re: Dreamer


End file.
